[He spoke without really thinking on the implied suggestion one might or might not have taken from those words; far too worn-down to ponder the exact right wording now that he'd actually spoken honestly on the simple fact that he hadn't wanted to die to begin with.]
The pair of us certainly didn't. We were so caught up with arguing over which of us was right that neither paused long enough to contemplate whether sibling rivalry was ever something the gods accounted for. If it had been as I thought and my power was meant to help, then why wasn't it given to both of us? I'm aware nothing is quite so clear as hindsight, but if we hadn't been so caught up in ourselves then perhaps one of us might have realized the contradiction.
[We couldn't have known, he told himself again, and then finished the thought in a half-murmured fragment:]
...because we trusted that the Astrals were infallible.
[How could Ardyn possibly have known he was making himself the greatest monster the world would ever know, fueling his own eventual resentment by giving everything and refusing to consider any other course of action? And Somnus could never have realized that his own misguided attempt to protect the kingdom would curse himself and a hundred generations of his descendants to fleeting embers created only to kindle a larger flame.]
We each thought the other was the obstruction to the world's salvation, not that the path itself was merely framework to something a thousand times greater.
[It made him sick to think about. The purpose given to their family by the gods had cursed him to eternity in soul-deep darkness and the agony of being neither dead nor alive. Had turned his brother from a too-serious child into a king with a heart wrought of the frigid iron of an executioner's blade.]
[Upon consideration, it was more the latter of the two that made him feel something like anger. If this was really the plan working as intended--that the gods or at least Bahamut had wished the kingdom's inception to be stained in fire and blood, then-]
[Then it's a terrible plan, isn't it? said his own voice in his head. Hesitantly, he had to agree with that.]
...I've told you before. I'll defer to you on this matter, because you're right. What matters is the safety of the world, and if the price is my life, I was already as prepared as one can be for that.
But can either of us really trust that's where it will stop?
no subject
[He spoke without really thinking on the implied suggestion one might or might not have taken from those words; far too worn-down to ponder the exact right wording now that he'd actually spoken honestly on the simple fact that he hadn't wanted to die to begin with.]
The pair of us certainly didn't. We were so caught up with arguing over which of us was right that neither paused long enough to contemplate whether sibling rivalry was ever something the gods accounted for. If it had been as I thought and my power was meant to help, then why wasn't it given to both of us? I'm aware nothing is quite so clear as hindsight, but if we hadn't been so caught up in ourselves then perhaps one of us might have realized the contradiction.
[We couldn't have known, he told himself again, and then finished the thought in a half-murmured fragment:]
...because we trusted that the Astrals were infallible.
[How could Ardyn possibly have known he was making himself the greatest monster the world would ever know, fueling his own eventual resentment by giving everything and refusing to consider any other course of action? And Somnus could never have realized that his own misguided attempt to protect the kingdom would curse himself and a hundred generations of his descendants to fleeting embers created only to kindle a larger flame.]
We each thought the other was the obstruction to the world's salvation, not that the path itself was merely framework to something a thousand times greater.
[It made him sick to think about. The purpose given to their family by the gods had cursed him to eternity in soul-deep darkness and the agony of being neither dead nor alive. Had turned his brother from a too-serious child into a king with a heart wrought of the frigid iron of an executioner's blade.]
[Upon consideration, it was more the latter of the two that made him feel something like anger. If this was really the plan working as intended--that the gods or at least Bahamut had wished the kingdom's inception to be stained in fire and blood, then-]
[Then it's a terrible plan, isn't it? said his own voice in his head. Hesitantly, he had to agree with that.]
...I've told you before. I'll defer to you on this matter, because you're right. What matters is the safety of the world, and if the price is my life, I was already as prepared as one can be for that.
But can either of us really trust that's where it will stop?